Pause First.

It was about 15 minutes into the start of my biology class, when a student came in late. In the middle of my short lesson, I paused to say good morning to her, and I asked her why she was late. 

Her answer? She said she couldn't remember where my classroom was. I immediately thought that was strange; it was February and she had been coming to my classroom, on time, since September.  I paused for a moment – she definitely seemed off to me – but I didn’t escalate; instead, I asked her to take her seat. 

I finished my mini-lesson while keeping an eye on her. She seemed disheveled, disorganized, and disoriented. When I got my students working independently, I called her over to my desk. I asked her if she was okay, and she quickly said she was fine. But I didn't immediately respond – mostly because I didn’t believe her. After a few quiet seconds, she told me that someone had pulled a gun when she was on public transportation that morning. She was rattled.

Working in a school with mental health resources, I got her to a counselor pretty quickly, and she was able to get some necessary support. 

Two things about this interaction have really stuck with me. 

First, stress and trauma can look like disorganization, confusion, and disorientation. It doesn't always look the same, even within the same student. Our bodies respond to stress in ways that may not always make logical sense; and while that fact can make it tricky to identify a trauma response, simply knowing it can help you support students as they experience stress and trauma. 

Second, it would have been so, so easy for me to respond differently in that moment. That student was late to my class, without a clear reason, with no note, in a way that I could have read as disruptive or disrespectful. I could have written her up or sent her to the dean. And on a different day, I admittedly probably would have.

She had made it through her entire first period without sharing her struggle, and she could have easily made it through the entire day without getting the emotional support she needed. 

The only thing I did differently that day? I paused before reacting or responding.

That day has stuck with me - through my days teaching in the classroom, and into my work with trauma-informed support for teachers and schools.

I always return to the idea that a curious approach to challenging or confusing student behavior almost always leads to more effective support for our kids, and the unique challenges they face.